Redbeard grabbed his leg, giving Garcia room to twist free and get the upper hand. A roar from behind them made Mattie turn. While the one guy was still fighting with the woman, the other—a tall blond cowboy with a military buzz cut—picked up a chair and hurled it at Mattie. She ducked, and the chair whizzed by before crashing into a table.
He lowered his head and charged. She stood her ground until the last second when she dropped low to the floor, shot forward, and rapped him hard with her baton on the muscle outside of the thigh and above the knee.
During almost eight years of experience on the force, she’d found that old adage to be true: “The bigger they are, the harder they fall.” This one crashed down, grabbing his injured thigh as he howled. Though Mattie hadn’t seen her arrive, Stella jumped in to take over, cuffing the guy before he recovered. A quick glance told Mattie that Garcia had twisted Redbeard’s arm behind his back and appeared to have him under control.
The bald man with the woman on his back yelled obscenities while he used his body weight to slam her against the wall. Air wheezed out of her lungs and her eyes glazed over. She released her grip from his neck and slid down the wall until she collapsed onto the floor. The guy bellowed and launched himself toward Mattie.
She stood her ground, intending to use the same tactic. She crouched, but before she could drop low to strike his leg, he used his head to crash into her full steam. She took the blow squarely on her chest. Gasping for air, she clutched her baton as she fell.
She hit the floor on her backside, the big guy on top of her. She drove her left fist into his Adam’s apple, and he reared up, grabbing his throat and giving her those few extra inches she needed. She thwacked her baton as hard as she could on the muscle at the base of his neck. He let out a roar, his breath tainted with the smell of liquor, and pinned her to the floor.
Unable to breathe, she pushed at the guy feebly. She was seeing stars when all of a sudden he flew off her. As her vision cleared, she could see her boss, Chief Deputy Ken Brody, dragging the man away and yelling, “Cobb! Are you okay?”
She struggled to prop herself up on one elbow, filled her poor lungs with enough air to say, “Yeah,” and scanned the room for Garcia. He’d gotten the better of his guy and had him in cuffs.
The bald one glared at Mattie while Brody cuffed him, arrested him for disorderly conduct and criminal mischief, and read him his rights.
As Mattie struggled to regain her feet, the guy spat at her, splattering her boots. “I’ll get you, you bitch.”
“Add assault in the second degree to that one’s charges,” Stella said, as she escorted the man she had cuffed toward the door.
After Deputy Johnson arrived and a large part of Timber Creek’s entire sheriff’s department had loaded the gang of cowboys, including the woman, into the backs of cruisers to drive to the station, Brody returned to where Stella and Mattie stood on the sidewalk.
“Damn, Cobb,” he said in his growly voice as he approached. “If I’d known you were here kickin’ butt and takin’ names, I might not have hurried so fast to get here.”
Mattie rubbed her sternum, where she’d taken the brunt of the head butt. “Could’ve used you sooner, Brody. What took you so long?”
He gave her a half smile. “Do you need medical care, Cobb?”
“Nope. I’ll be okay.”
He looked at Stella. “Shame. Can’t make the assault charge stick.”
She gave Mattie a once over. “If I took a headbutt like that, I’d be heading to the doctor’s office.”
“Cobb’s tough.” Brody started to walk away but turned back. “Where’s your partner? He would’ve made short work of those guys.”
“Home, eating.”
“That’s where we should all be. Damn dog’s smarter than the bunch of us.” Brody laughed as he headed toward his cruiser.
“Do you want me to call the Humane Society to take care of these horses?” Mattie called to him as she gestured toward the illegally parked horse trailer.
“Nah, Garcia will handle it from here.” He got into his vehicle and drove off.
Stella’s face showed her concern. “You took quite a blow, Mattie. Do you feel like going back to eat?”
“I’ll get it to go. I’ll feel like eating later.”
They stepped off the sidewalk and headed toward the diner.
“I don’t know why the guy singled out you,” Stella said, “and not Brody for arresting him.”
“He was the one scrapping with the woman. Might be a macho thing.”
“They’ll probably all bond out by tomorrow. Watch your back until you know he’s well out of town.”
Mattie nodded in agreement, though she wasn’t too worried about it. These things were all in a day’s work. No big deal.
When Mattie drove home, she spied Riley Flynn sitting on the edge of the front yard by the street. She was tossing a pile of pebbles, one at a time, into Robo’s empty water dish, which she’d evidently moved off the porch. Her shoulders were slumped, her long brunette hair trailing to her chest in a side braid.
Riley and her father had moved to Timber Creek only a few weeks earlier, and since then she’d been somewhat at loose ends. Making friends at the end of the school year was a challenge for anyone, but Riley appeared to be more reserved and quiet than most other fifteen-year-olds. And though Mattie had connected with her quickly, having once lived at the fringe of a high school peer group herself, the girl struggled to connect with kids her own age.
Riley perked up when Mattie drove in and parked. Her amber eyes lit and a grin bunched her lightly freckled cheeks. She was a cute girl who always seemed eager to please, and Mattie’s heart had gone out to her when they’d first met at the school. But this was the first time Riley had shown up uninvited.
Riley gave a little wave as Mattie grabbed the bag that contained her meal and exited the car. “Hey, Mattie!”
Robo, Mattie’s German shepherd, stood at the front window, paws on the sill, barking at them from inside.
“Hey, Riley. I’m surprised to see you here.”
Riley avoided eye contact as she dumped the pebbles out of Robo’s bowl and stood. “I hope you don’t mind. I was out riding my bike, and I thought I’d come by to say hi to you and Robo.”
“How did you know where I live?”
“Everyone knows where you live.” Riley gestured toward the backyard. “You’re the one with the razor wire at the top of your fence.”
“Oh.” The county had added the wire to the top of Robo’s seven-foot-high enclosure after someone had tried to poison him during a nasty case last summer. “I suppose it does sort of stand out.”
“Uh, I’ll put Robo’s bowl back on the porch. I guess I’d better go home now.”
Mattie paused. Battered and tired, she didn’t feel up to hosting a guest, but she didn’t mean to act unfriendly. Word at school was that Riley’s mother had died of cancer about six months earlier, and at least Mattie could make the girl feel welcome. “Have you had any dinner yet?”
“I had a sandwich before I left.”
“Does your dad know where you are?”
“He’s at work. He started working nights at the bar in Hightower.”
As they walked toward the house, Robo popped in and out of the window to bark. Mattie could picture him beating a path from window to door as he eagerly willed it to open.
Riley put his bowl back on the porch and gave a shy smile. “That’s why I moved out into the yard. He was pitching a fit to get out.”